


Insidious

by SweetSorcery



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Captivity, M/M, Male Slash, Manipulations, Mind Control, Mind Rape, Power Play, Prisoner of War, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whilst in captivity during "Rocks and Shoals", Garak makes an uneasy acquaintance with the mental powers of the Vorta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insidious

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon characters, settings, events and other details are property of Viacom/Paramount and possibly other copyright holders. Non-canon bits were created for non-profit, non-infringement fan entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Nowhere except here, and not in translated form either.
> 
> Note: I hesitate to classify this as non-con, but having one's head messed with is certainly not polite. Please keep that in mind.

Keevan moaned. The pain from his injuries was tearing at his insides. He'd never felt anything like it, and it almost scared him. But he wasn't easily scared, and his plan to lure the Federation doctor here was going to work. It had to work. Meanwhile, he was bored.

"Third," he whimpered, waiting for the Jem'Hadar to come to his side. "I want you to bring the Cardassian prisoner to me."

"As you wish," the Jem'Hadar replied, turning to walk away from the Vorta.

"Wait!" Keevan reached up with one hand, ignoring the pain that movement sent through his side. "Don't bring the Ferengi. I only want to see Mr Garak."

Remata'klan nodded and left.

After a few minutes he returned, his hand clutching tightly at the Cardassian's arm.

Garak growled, rubbing his arm once he was released. "Is it necessary for you to break something of mine? I was quite willing to cooperate, you know."

Keevan smiled. It sent a chill down Garak's spine.

"You may go, Third." The Vorta waited until the Jem'Hadar had left before turning his attention to Garak. Lying on his back, staring at the roof of the cave, he said, "I trust you and your friend are not too uncomfortable?"

Garak shook his head. He was used to dealing with unpleasant and dangerous men, but this Vorta had a particularly disturbing effect on him. "It will do," he said, eager to end the conversation and leave.

"Are you afraid of me, Mr Garak?" Keevan inquired, his voice as sweet as honey and his eyes as sharp as the blade of a bat'leth.

Suspecting that he'd better not let his guard down, Garak answered lightly, "Hardly that."

"Good." Keevan smiled again, turning on his side despite the sharp pain coursing through his body. He looked at the Cardassian. He'd heard of him, of course - the infamous Garak, exiled from his homeworld and forced to live among strangers who distrusted him. Keevan was pleased.

"So... why am I here?" Garak asked, looking around surrepticiously, his natural curiosity briefly winning out over his dislike of the Vorta.

Keevan looked at him with interest. "You are here because I want you here." When the Cardassian merely looked blankly at him, he added, "Relax, Garak, I just want to get better acquainted."

The tailor had his doubts about that, and certainly no desire of his own to get better acquainted, but for the moment, he decided to play along. "Do you really?" he asked amiably. Only someone who knew him very well would be able to recognise the acidic undertone. Someone like Julian, whom he dearly wished to have around instead of the Vorta.

"Of course. After all, your people and mine are allies now, and while I know that Cardassia doesn't look upon you with affection, I presume you are as loyal to your homeworld as every other Cardassian I've ever met." Keevan watched with delight as a range of emotions from surprise to anger to watchfulness passed over Garak's face.

"I apologise if I tore open old wounds," the Vorta said with mock pity. He had clearly unsettled the Cardassian and was enjoying that power.

"Oh, it's quite all right." Garak moved to sit on a large rock that lay against the cave wall. "I'm used to having my wounds torn open." Whatever had possessed him to say such a thing to this despicable creature?

"That sounds rather sad." Keevan's eyes stared at Garak, burning into his with their mesmerising shade of blue. This was working like a dream.

Garak leaned back against the cold rock. It made no difference. He was already chilled to his bare bones. He really needed to come up with an escape plan. 'He would make an excellent interrogator,' he thought with dismay.

The Vorta sighed softly. His pain was beginning to subside. He was enjoying this game so much. He knew enough about the Cardassian's past to know he was dealing with a dangerous man. It made it that much more fun to watch him squirm. He loved the thrill of danger.

"Tell me, Garak, what is it about me that scares you?" The discomfort that question clearly caused made it all worthwhile.

"As I've already told you, you don't scare me." The tailor shifted uncomfortably, trying to make it look as if his makeshift seat was merely not up to scratch. "But since I'm your prisoner and you're my warden, you'll forgive me if I don't express great fondness for you either."

Keevan laughed, which made him cough for a moment, and he pressed his hand more tightly against his wound. Things were going very well. The Cardassian was almost clambering to get into his trap. "I hadn't expected fondness. But since you mention it, what _are_ you fond of, Mr Garak?"

There. Again he'd taken the bait. Garak was furious with himself. How could he let himself be manipulated like this? "Nothing you would understand," he said lightly, but his eyes were frosty when he met the Vorta's.

Keevan's unusual features turned to stone. "What makes you say that?" he asked, his voice not once wavering from its deceptive softness. "Don't underestimate the Vorta, Mr Garak. We are quite capable of understanding affections, even if we are not prone to them ourselves."

Garak shivered. He wished nothing more than to get out of this Vorta's realm of influence. Eloquent as he considered himself to be, he feared he was not as his best when it came to this particular interrogator.

"I'm waiting," Keevan said. "What are you fond of, Garak?" When an answer wasn't forthcoming, he continued himself, "Maybe the closeness of someone you feel for? Maybe the safety of familiarity? Or how about the touch of a gentle hand, stroking your flesh?"

The Cardassian had feared this and at the same time, he'd known it was coming. The Vorta clearly knew of his own exotic appeal, which was to an equal extent enticing and repulsive. He had to somehow steer the conversation into safer waters. "Those are things valued highly by most humanoids, of course, but tell me about the Vorta. What is it you value?" Garak asked lightly.

With no intention to answer Garak's question, Keevan smiled broadly. "I see the subject makes you uncomfortable. But you must forgive my natural curiosity about your culture. Humans are so easy to read. Too easy. And when they are scared, they present no challenge at all. I find myself developing much greater interest in Cardassians."

Garak narrowed his eyes. What did Keevan want from him?

"Garak, must I remind you that you are my prisoner?" Keevan's eyes focused firmly on the tailor's face. "I'd like to have a pleasant conversation with you, but you really have to help me. Now please, answer my question."

"Yes."

The Cardassian was taken aback when the Vorta began to laugh. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Only too late did Garak realise that Keevan had decided to take that as an answer to his earlier question. "I was merely agreeing to talk--"

Keevan raised a hand. His face was serious again. "Don't lie to me, I can tell."

They looked at each other silently for a moment. Something about the Vorta's expression kept Garak silent.

"Garak, what is it like?" Keevan asked with childlike interest.

"What is what like?" Garak tried hard not to understand.

"These corporeal sensations you find so delightful. I believe some of you even kill for them? I must say, it all seems very primitive to me, but maybe you can explain?" 'Like a trapped animal,' Keevan thought, looking at the Cardassian who didn't know where to focus his eyes anymore.

"I wouldn't know how," Garak admitted. It was true. How could he explain physical love to a race that barely allowed touch?

Keevan smiled benevolently. "I understand." But just as Garak breathed a sigh of relief, he added, "Would you like to know what the Vorta experience?"

Shaking his head too quickly and too emphatically, Garak felt the heat rise to his face. He really didn't want to know. Or did he? His hesitation to speak lasted just a moment too long.

"I will show you." The Vorta looked at Garak, his violet eyes holding the other's pale blue ones. He would not allow him to withdraw from this lesson.

Garak's head was swimming. His mind became unfocused. What was happening? He tried to move, to stand up and turn away from that stare fixed on him, but he was held in place by an invisible force. Keevan was lying on his side, unmoving but relaxed. Whatever he was doing required no effort whatsoever on his behalf. Garak's skin began to tingle. Warmth rushed to his head, crawled over his arms and legs, fell over his entire body like a vast blanket. He couldn't help but moan. He had been so cold in this cave. The heat felt wonderful.

Keevan smiled when he saw Garak's eyes close. He heard the faint moan of pleasure and knew the tailor was his. This was a delightful game, and he enjoyed it more and more every time he played it.

Garak felt the heat moving over him in waves. Rising and subsiding, rising and subsiding. He was barely aware that he shouldn't be feeling this way. Just a moment longer. Only a little more warmth and he would shake off that gaze.

Keevan let his eyes wander over the Cardassian's black hair. It looked so silky. And what a beautiful contrast to the pale skin and blue eyes. 'Something we have in common,' he thought.

Garak felt an invisible hand gently stroking over his head. He opened his eyes briefly, but the Vorta was still lying across from him, on the other side of the cave. It had to have been his imagination.

Keevan held up his index finger, moving it downwards through the air slowly, as if he was drawing it over a window.

Garak's head fell back. A tingle ran over his chin and down his neck.

Keevan opened his palm and held it still.

Garak felt pressure on his chest, like a hand pushing against him.

"How do you like it so far, Garak?" The Vorta's lips curled into a cruel grimace, but the Cardassian hardly noticed. All he wanted was for the sensations to continue. He nodded.

Keevan laughed silently. Time to close the lock on the prison door. His eyes explored every inch of the Cardassian's body - the elaborate neck ridges, the broad shoulders, the chest underneath that damp, worn tunic.

Garak's heart began to race. His pulse was throbbing in his temples and the heat that shrouded his body was beginning to turn into fire. The skin of his upper body was tingling with sensations. His neck ridges were aflame.

Keevan lowered his eyes to the Cardassian's long legs, lingering on his feet and moving back up towards his groin. He rested his stare on the Cardassian's hips, which had begun to move back and forth almost unnoticeably. Ah, of course, that was where to concentrate...

Garak sighed. Another wave of fire engulfed his limbs. It licked at his legs, spreading all around him, until he felt as though he was sitting on a bed of burning embers. A human would have winced in discomfort, but for the Cardassian, the heat was wonderful.

Keevan's eyes rested on Garak's hands. They had begun to move towards his groin gradually. He couldn't allow this. "No, Garak!" he hissed.

The Cardassian opened his eyes, torn from his near-trance state. Suddenly, the whole situation was so clear to him. This disgusting creature was using him; he was performing a show for the Vorta's amusement. And he had been too distracted to even try and shake him off.

"Stop this," Garak growled, shaken by the waves of pleasure flowing through his veins, but Keevan shook his head, slowly.

"It's too late for that, dear Garak. I'm very sorry, but you will have to endure the pleasure I intend to provide you with."

Garak tried to move, but he may as well have been bolted down with steel irons. A plethora of curses came to mind, but he didn't want to give the Vorta the pleasure of his defeat. With determination, he focused on calming his body. And for a moment, it seemed to work.

"Why are you trying to deny yourself this?" Keevan asked, truly surprised. "Is that some kind of sick ritual you Cardassians go through? Denying yourself pleasure?"

Garak swallowed. "There's no pleasure in this for me, believe me."

"Really?" Keevan smiled. He blinked, before focusing his eyes firmly on Garak's midsection.

The Cardassian moaned when he felt the heat rushing through his groin and straight into the tip of his beginning erection. It almost burned him, barely tiltering on the border of pain and pleasure. "I despise you and your entire race," he hissed, gritting his teeth.

Keevan laughed. "I know you do. But I don't mind." That diabolically mellow voice...

Garak's urge to touch himself was becoming almost unbearable. But he wouldn't give in. Not to this demonic creature who had anything but his pleasure in mind. He tried to distract himself by plotting his revenge.

"What are you doing, Garak?" Keevan barely raised himself on one elbow. "It would be much more enjoyable if you told me what you like. I can help you."

"I don't need your help." Garak's voice was firm but breathy. His arousal was evident in it, and he wished desperately he hadn't spoken.

"Yes you do, because I can keep you suspended here like this for as long as I wish." Keevan smiled unkindly. "But if you ask me nicely, I'll make it very pleasant for you, I promise."

Garak snorted. A promise... Oh yes, he was sure Keevan felt obliged to keep his promises.

"I don't know why you resist me so much," the Vorta said with exasperation. "But I like you, Garak, which is why I won't tell my men to kill you for it."

Garak shuddered. The delicious heat was gone, and he briefly wondered whether he was free to move again. But apparently, Keevan had other plans. It was as if a thousand tongues were licking at his body. Garak sank back against the stone with the force of the sensation. Some of the tongues were like ice, sending shooting pains through his limbs, while some of them were scorching, but equally painful. The Cardassian's body responded violently, arching with the force of his physical responses. His arousal was pressed tightly against the fabric of his trousers, and he hoped the Vorta had neglected to notice that detail. But no such luck.

Keevan looked across the flame-lit cave. He was excited by his prisoner's torment. 'Almost there,' he thought, when he saw the bulge at Garak's groin. To Garak, he called out, "Beg me!" His voice was hoarse.

The Cardassian's eyes widened. Hatred was as clear in his face as desperation. He needed release. Now. He fought hard to resist Keevan, but his body betrayed him bitterly. "Please," he squeezed the word through gritted teeth, and he heard the responding laugh.

Keevan allowed him to fall into the abyss. Every nerve in Garak's body tensed up and then relaxed, the blood pumped through his veins, his skin crawled with the rapture of his release, and when he came into his trousers, he cried out with pleasure, hatred and shame.

"Interesting." The Vorta lay back, breathing only marginally faster.

Garak slumped against the rock. He felt terrible. Used, violated, out of control. A Cardassian interrogation seemed almost friendly by comparison. He hated Keevan. With every fiber of his being. 'Think, Garak,' he told himself. Still shaken from his recent orgasm and surrounded by uncomfortable wetness, he worked hard on his retaliation. 'Look at that smug little bastard,' he thought. 'He's had his show, now he's going to rest while I sit here feeling embarrassed, wanting nothing more than to strangle that pale neck of his.'

Keevan turned, his eyes able to focus again. Just as well the Cardassian would never know just how much pleasure he himself had derived from this little "experiment". He would probably kill him for it. With a cruel smile, Keevan asked, "I trust you enjoyed that, Garak?"

The tailor bit his lips. Forcing himself to reply with as steady a voice as he could manage, he said, "Oh yes, I most certainly did. But I was wondering..."

The Vorta looked interested.

"Have you ever experienced this _my_ way?" Garak saw to his great delight that Keevan was intrigued. In fact, his strange eyes widened in anticipation.

"No, I haven't, Garak. Are you offering your services?" The Vorta's soft voice took on a languorous tone.

'If that's an attempt to seduce me, he has a lot to learn.' Garak stood, uncomfortably aware of the wetness at his groin, but he did his best to ignore it. There was something he had to do.

Keevan turned on his back, settling into a reasonably comfortable position. "I won't be able to move much, Garak, but you're welcome to try." He laughed softly. Did the Cardassian really think his primitive ways held any kind of fascination for him?

Garak stood by the Vorta's side. He raised one hand and placed it on Keevan's left thigh. The skin he felt through the cloth was remarkably warm. "I'll be gentle with you, don't worry." Garak smiled.

"I'm certain you will be." Keevan parted his legs and Garak's hand slid to the inside of his thigh, stroking up and down firmly. The Vorta's body was trembling ever so slightly.

"So you haven't done anything like this before?" Garak made polite conversation. Thoughts of impending revenge allowed him to control his voice. Despite the Vorta's treatment, he had to admit Keevan was rather alluring. He couldn't explain it, but something about him set his pulse racing just a little.

"No." Keevan's answer was short, mostly due to his breath being caught slightly. This _touching_ was more unsettling than he had expected. He wasn't sure whether he liked it or found it repugnant. Maybe he'd just wait a little longer before making up his mind...

Garak's hand moved upwards, cupping the Vorta's sex. His strokes became firmer, and he watched as Keevan's eyes closed. 'It's working,' he thought, enjoying being the one in control again.

Keevan's breathing accelerated. This wasn't right. This shouldn't be so pleasant. He opened his mouth to protest the intimacy of the tailor's touch, but he found his mouth covered by Garak's. His lips parted in surprise, allowing access to the Cardassian's snake-like tongue.

'Delicious,' Garak thought, 'But I still hate you.'

The Vorta made a sound he'd never heard from himself before. All mind control was slipping away from him, and he was too focused on his own pleasure and gratification to even consider demanding that Garak stop.

Garak broke from the kiss, letting his hand slide inside the tight-fitting pants. His hand found a firm, small cock. It wasn't erect as such, but it was immensely pleasant to the touch. Pulling down the fabric completely, Garak took in the silkiness of Keevan's skin and the intricate pattern on his sex, matching the ridges along his ear.

The Vorta moaned, trying to move into Garak's hand, but his injuries prevented him. "That is very... interesting, Garak," Keevan gasped.

'It's far more than interesting and you know it.' Garak smiled. Nearly there... He began to stroke Keevan's slowly growing erection, sending shivers through the Vorta's unsuspecting body. As unsuspecting as he himself had been before. Only - he hadn't been given a choice.

"Yes..." Keevan encouraged him, moaning under his breath, as Garak's fingers played him like a musical instrument. This was even better than to watch the Cardassian squirm. Garak pumped him harder now, pushing him closer and closer to his first ever physical orgasm. The Vorta was helpless. 

Bending forward, Garak took him into his mouth. The suppressed moan of delight he earned with that action was unmistakable. Keevan was enjoying himself.

As was Garak. For more reasons than one. "Do you want me to finish this?" he enquired rhetorically.

Keevan nodded emphatically, his eyes closed.

Garak tore himself away from that pleasing vision of Keevan at the mercy of his touch. It was time. "Well, that is a shame. I'm afraid I don't want to." Garak stood back a step.

"What?" Keevan hissed, trying to reach out for the Cardassian but grasping thin air. His injuries didn't allow him enough freedom to move. "How dare you, _prisoner_?"

"Oh, I dare." Garak stood just out of arm's reach, smirking.

"My men will kill you!" Keevan threatened. His erection was painful now. He didn't know how to find release by himself, and his anger at the Cardassian for leaving him like this was clouding his judgment.

"No, they won't," Garak pointed out. "Because if you called for them, they would see you like... that." The Cardassian smiled. "And somehow, even though half naked and furious is not a bad look for you, I don't believe they would respect you any better for it." And with that, he strolled casually back towards the tunnel through which he had been led in to request being returned to his "cell". 

Keevan was left behind fuming and hoping that the Jem'Hadar would take their time returning.

THE END


End file.
